The lady stood on the edge of the balcony, her bright eyes scanning the dimming horizon for a pair of white sails. The water lay calm, not a single ship stirred the usually restless sea. She leaned against the cold, hard marble wall, propping her slender body up with her elbows. A soft wind blew, rustling the lady’s auburn curls. She tucked a strand behind her ear before sighing deep and taking one last look at the terrible ocean below.





****
Whispers were heard around the court. “She’s ill!”, “She’s mad!”, and “She is not fit to rule!” All of the rumors, the vicious lies, all ripped hard into the wound made by him. Gone was her royal sailor taken with the sea; his ship was expected home after three seasons but now six had past. Any news from the ports never included his party. Most had told her to give up hope, that she was wasting her time, but the lady was undeterred. Every night she gazed out at the oceans once beautiful waves, now tainted by the sting of her prince’s memory. She stood there hour after hour praying the tide would drift her lover’s ship back into the harbor.
When the eighth season had melted away into bright flowers and long nights, the Lady finally gave up. She stopped standing on the balcony gazing out to sea; she stopped waiting for news of his ship and wholly and ruefully gave up hope of his return. The Lady’s wounds scabbed over, but never fully healed as she found companionship in another. Almost twelve years passed and the Lady never went back out on the balcony.






****
Then one day, she stepped back out on cold marble to say a complete good bye. As she thought about the time she had wasted waiting for her royal sailor she glanced out at the choppy water and saw white sails on the horizon.

This will certify that the above work is completely original.
Caroline Voisine